


The Bodyguard

by polikszena



Category: Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga (2020), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polikszena/pseuds/polikszena
Summary: As the Eurovision Song Contest is held in Edinburgh this year, Kingsman agents are asked to look after Russia's contestant after having received numerous death threats. Roxy Morton, aka. Agent Lancelot lands in the role of the bodyguard, and she arrives to Edinburgh as Alexander Lemtov's personal assistant, however, their relationship doesn't start as smoothly as planned.
Relationships: Alexander Lemtov & Mita Xenakis, Roxy Morton | Lancelot & Alexander Lemtov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Prince Herbert

**Author's Note:**

> This is a random idea that just popped into my head this morning, and it got stuck there, so I wrote this. It sets in an AU where Roxy doesn't die.

“What do you think?”

_Kill me._

_Kill me._

_Now._

These words were flashing in Roxy Morton’s mind as he stood in the middle of a crowded dressing room, holding the half of a black and golden waistcoat, not taking her eyes off the fabric. _I didn’t sign up for this_ , she thought to herself for the hundredth time that day, already regretting that she said yes to Merlin to go on a mission to Edinburgh. Not that she had any other choice, but now she was more excited to get back to her desk and do administrative work at the headquarters than going on with this mission.

“Roxana… what do you think?”

The words in a strong Russian accent snapped Roxy out of her thoughts. They had only been working together for about four hours, and his deep voice was already making her want to slap him. Or spit in his coffee when he looks away. However, she made an effort not to be rude and managed to keep a straight face when she finally looked up at her client. _Manners maketh man_ , she reminded herself, even when one spent the last forty minutes tearing a stripper waistcoat off a crazy Russian guy over and over again.

“I think the fastening is good,” she finally said. “It should be fine.”

“Good,” the man nodded with a smile. “Now, Roxana, go to the costume department and tell them to do the red one like this,” he said, handling her the other half of the waistcoat. “And then we’ll test that, too.”

“Yes, sure,” Roxy said, and though she kept a straight face, she was screaming internally. “But Mr. Lemtov, it’s Roxy,” she told him after a short silence. “Not Roxana.”

“Ah, okay,” he mumbled, but his thoughts were somewhere else. Actually, he was checking his chest hair in the mirror.

 _Whatever_ , Roxy thought and went off before the urge to slap him returned. This new mission officially sucked, she stated in mind, as she passed through a large crowd of singers, assistants, hairdressers and technicians to get to the costume department. She wasn’t expecting this when she and Merlin arrived at Edinburgh the night before.

She was told to be the bodyguard of a singer of the Eurovision Song Contest, namely Alexander Lemtov from Russia, as lately he had got some serious death threats and had anything happen to him while being in the UK wouldn’t do good to the relationship of the two countries. Especially because this song contest aimed to bring people together and not to pull them further apart.

Personally, Roxy didn’t know much about the song contest besides its existence and its enormous fanbase, including Eggsy’s mother and fiancée, who also happened to be huge admirers of their new client. For Roxy and Merlin on the other hand, Eurovision was more like a silly TV show where European countries made complete fools of themselves every year. However, this year they had to join the party.

Since they didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to themselves, they agreed with Lemtov to employ the assigned Kingsman agent as his personal assistant, so they could follow him everywhere. However, it also meant that Roxy had to follow Lemtov’s orders, no matter how stupid they would be. Such as testing the Velcro fastening on his costumes for the finale, three days before the semi-finals. When he didn’t even know if he could get into the finals. It didn’t make much sense to Roxy.

As for Lemtov, he didn’t seem to be satisfied with his new bodyguard either which certainly didn’t help their relationship to start smoothly. To begin with, he was expecting someone larger – and most probably, a man. At first, he thought Merlin would be his new bodyguard; he even asked him if he was going to be his Kevin which made Roxy confused and annoyed.

“I’m afraid, not,” the Quartermaster shook his head with a small smile. “Your Kevin is right here,” he added, placing a hand on Roxy’s shoulder.

Seeing the petite woman next to the bald man, Lemtov’s smile turned into a frown, and Roxy could tell, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to do her job properly. She felt the urge to do a little demonstration, to show her skills to this annoying Russian, but she knew Merlin wouldn’t approve of it, so she kept still. The Quartermaster explained him the plan of Roxy becoming his personal assistant to avoid unwanted attention, finally drawing a smile on Lemtov’s face.

“ _Miss Congeniality_ -style, got it,” he said.

“If that were the case, she would have to be one of the contestants,” Merlin pointed out.

“Thank God I’m not,” Roxy added, being surprised that Merlin knew _Miss Congeniality_.

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Lemtov shrugged his shoulder. “The UK never gets any points anyway.”

And this is how the torture started for Roxy. As his assistant, he had to follow Lemtov’s orders, and he took advantage of it. He made his new bodyguard go for coffee, get his costumes, help him into said costume, get him some food, then scented toilet paper, and so on, and so on. They started working together less than four hours ago, and Roxy was already fed up with this mission. She was on her way back from the costume department when her phone rang.

“Hey, how it's going with Prince Herbert?” she heard Eggsy’s voice when she picked it up.

“Prince Herbert?” she echoed.

“You know, _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_! Swamp Castle! That Prince Herbert!”

Once she got it, the comparison made Roxy laugh for the first time on that horrible day. It was so spot on, as both men were eccentric and gay (although in Lemtov’s case, Roxy just assumed it from the way he dressed, talked, and looked at other people), they both were singers, and they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed.

“I want to get out of here,” she admitted. “I had to tear his waistcoat off him about twenty times just to test the Velcro fastening on it!” she cried out. “And how’s your day?”

“Nothing much, just a car chase and a bar fight,” Eggsy said, trying not to laugh when he imagined Roxy tearing off Lemtov’s waistcoat.

“Oh, fuck off,” she sighed. She’d have happily traded her morning with Russia’s Love Lion for a car chase or a bar fight.

“I will. I have to go,” Eggsy said. “Take care, Lancelot.”

“Take care, Galahad.” Then she hung up.

On her way back she got a tea for herself and another coffee for Lemtov, who, luckily, had stopped checking his chest hair in the mirror and was reading something on his phone when Roxy returned to his corner.

“And there she is, my Kevin with my coffee,” he greeted her, getting up from his chair.

“Kevin?” Roxy wondered. She couldn’t understand it in the morning, and she still couldn’t understand it now. “Why am I your Kevin?”

“You know, Kevin Costner! In _The Bodyguard_!” he replied. “And I’m Whitney Houston!”

And then he burst into _I Will Always Love You_ , making every single head in the crowded dressing room turn towards them. And Roxy had to admit that no matter how annoying Alexander Lemtov was, he certainly could sing.


	2. (Don’t) Pound the Alarm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Roxy gave Lemtov a personal alarm, only to realise that it was a terrible mistake.

Hearing the beep of the alarm, Roxy Morton let out a sigh. _Not again_ , she thought as she ran through that enormous house. Now she regretted the decision to give Alexander Lemtov a personal alarm, because he was overusing it.

When Merlin arrived at the arena with a nice little box that morning, a spark lit up in the singer’s eyes.

“Am I getting some weapons?” he asked, eagerly eyeing the bald man.

“No,” the Quartermaster shook his head.

“God forbid,” said Roxy at the same time. Giving him anything more dangerous than a ballpoint pen would be a terrible mistake, she thought to herself. In certain circumstances, he could be a weapon of mass destruction without even knowing it. Last night Roxy watched a couple of Lemtov’s music videos, and she came to the conclusion that they could be legitimately used for torturing people. The music and the singing weren’t bad at all, but the videos were horrible. Like those cheesy, tasteless greeting cards with ugly flower bouquets and photoshopped hearts on them, but with a shirtless Lemtov. If this hadn’t been terrible enough, he found out about it, because Roxy didn’t close the lid of her laptop fast enough when he came into her room.

“Ooh, the _Beautiful Beast_! I was extremely sexy in that one,” he remarked, pointing at the now open laptop’s screen, where Lemtov was bathing in a tub full of rose petals.

“Not really my style,” Roxy admitted, since she had completely different ideas about what was sexy. However, she didn’t want to explain it to a man wearing a black and golden satin dressing gown with matching pyjama bottoms. Pyjama tops were nowhere to be found which didn’t even surprise her anymore.

“You should check out _Vodka and Wood_ ,” he suggested, “if you’re more into the rough stuff,” he added with a wink, while Roxy made a mental note to never check out _Vodka and Wood_. “And fun fact,” he continued, pointing at the screen again, “those are actual rose petals. No CGI there.” Then he headed to the corridor but turned back at the door. “Oh, and I was actually in the nude. No CGI there either.”

Despite Roxy highly doubted that having any kind of nudity in a music video was allowed in Russia, she still cringed at the thought and never finished the _Beautiful Beast_ video.

However, the picture of Lemtov bathing in rose petals was still haunting her next morning during the meeting with Merlin, so she was desperately searching her mind for something that could turn her thoughts away from this horrendous image. Surprisingly, she was pulled back to reality by the actual Lemtov’s voice:

“Why?” he pouted. “I could handle a gun,” he said.

“We don’t doubt that,” Merlin assured him, “but what we’ve brought you today is something more delicate than a gun.”

Then he opened the box, and inside there was a dainty stud earring, almost identical to the one Lemtov was wearing that day. A wide grin broke out on the singer’s face when he saw it.

“It looks nice,” he said. “What is it for?”

“It’s an alarm,” Merlin explained. “If you feel endangered, just press the earring and it sends some signals to Roxy, so she can come and help you.”

To demonstrate, he pressed on the earring which made Roxy’s left earring beep. And since then it was beeping in every two minutes, for absolutely no reason. Roxy was getting more and more fed up with it, but she went to him every time, because what if he was in real danger?

This time she found Lemtov in the garden of his enormous house with a whip in his hand. He was about to use one in his performance, so he decided to practice a little with it. Which meant that he dressed up as Indiana Jones (of course, without a shirt) and put up some empty cans as targets, but so far, he was closer to hit his own eyes than those.

“What happened?” Roxy asked once she took in the sight.

“I accidentally whipped myself,” he answered.

“Please, Mr. Lemtov, only use the alarm if you are in danger because of someone else!” Roxy said, almost begging. “I’m here to protect you, but not from yourself!”

“I know, I know,” he assured her, lowering his glance. “But… you know how to use this, don’t you?” he asked, shaking the whip a little.

“Yes.”

“Can you show me then? Please.” Now he was looking at her like a puppy in the rain. Roxy could see why some people found him attractive as he had dark blonde hair, icy blue eyes, soft features, and full lips, but they didn’t have any effect on her. He was far too annoying for that. But then she knew that showing him how to use the whip would mean less use of the alarm, so she said yes. Although not because of the puppy eyes, as he believed it.

In the next hour, Alexander Lemtov, after beheading a handful of flowers (later he made a bouquet of them for his housekeeper), managed to hit two of the cans with the whip. And he was slightly less annoying during the process – he even made Roxy laugh! To her surprise, she began to have fun, and he seemed to enjoy himself, too.

However, five minutes later he ruined it all. He got a phone call and informed Roxy that they would go clubbing at the evening, as his friend, Greece’s contestant had arrived, and she had to be welcomed properly. In order to prepare for that, he decided to take a bath.

“I’m going to take a bath,” he announced, wearing his black and golden dressing gown again with towel on his shoulder. “In water,” he added, reminding Roxy again of that horrible video. Then he walked back into his bedroom. Since the house was all quiet, she could hear his dressing gown falling dramatically on the floor.

Now that she had some free time, Roxy decided to explore Lemtov’s house. It was a small castle that stood near Edinburg with a nice view to the city. He owned the building for quite a few years now, alongside other houses all over the world, and knowing Russia’s point of view on the LGBTQ community, she wasn’t surprised he didn’t want to spend a lot of time in his home country. This house looked like an odd museum, as it was full of paintings, skins of lions and other felines (in her room only there were two tigers), and statues, most of them in ancient Greek style: a bunch of naked men with erect penises. Most of them looked like him, although he didn’t seem to notice that. The four statues next to each other in the hall reminded Roxy of some bizarre coat hangers; only that Lemtov probably wouldn’t allow anyone to hang anything on them. Except perhaps Christmas lights in December.

Before she could have continued her tour towards the kitchen, the alarm went off again. Letting out a sigh, Roxy ran up the stairs wondering whether he was out of soap this time or he got his big toe stuck in the tap – anyway, she hoped there would be enough foam in the tub.

“What happened?” she asked when she entered Lemtov’s room.

The Russian contestant was sitting in his bathtub, surrounded by white foam, looking unharmed.

“I forgot my duck,” he replied. “I can’t take a bath without it! Could you bring it to me?”

That was the last drop. Roxy Morton, a devoted Kingsman agent who risked her life for her country many times in the past few years was on the edge of quitting a mission. Once she flew up to the stratosphere despite her fear of heights to destroy a satellite. It was horrible, but at least it wasn’t humiliating like tearing a waistcoat off a Eurovision contestant, and now looking for his sex toy. Because after seeing those statues, Roxy didn’t think it could be anything else, and it was too much for her.

“No, I can’t!” she burst out. “I won’t! I am your fucking bodyguard and not your handmaid! I’m here to protect you from getting killed, but not for this! Yes, while we’re in the arena, I’m your personal assistant, so I’ll bring you coffee and tear of even your pants, but now we’re not in the arena, so I don’t have to serve you! So, get out of the tub and find your sex toy for yourself!” then she stormed out of the room and phoned Merlin to call it quits.

Lemtov was just sitting in the bathtub, astonished by her sudden outburst, still processing the information.

“It’s not a sex toy,” he finally said. “Hey, it’s not a sex toy!” he repeated, louder. “It’s a regular rubber duck!”

But Roxy didn’t hear him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to life-of brienne for the inspiration for "Beautiful Beast" and "Vodka and Wood"!


	3. Time bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to the city centre Roxy and Lemtov clear the air about their conflicts.

Tom Mason turned up the radio on the way to the town centre. For the last four years he drove Lemtov’s car back and forth in the UK, but this was the first time his boss was awake and quiet. Normally he couldn’t keep his mouth shut during the ride, but now both him and his assistant were on the backseat, with eyes fixed on the window, none of them speaking a single word. Tom knew something had happened earlier this afternoon – he heard the young woman yelling. All the staff did. The tension in the car was so high that Tom felt like sitting on a time bomb that could go off any minute.

When Roxy phoned Merlin after storming out of Lemtov’s room, the Quartermaster denied her request to quit the mission, as there were no other agents available to finish it. Moreover, Roxy already knew the schedule, the arena, and she was familiar with Lemtov’s house as well.

“You had much worse than this,” Merlin reminded her. Like when they got stuck in the Jordan desert for three days – she remembered it well. “Of course, those were more, er… dignified missions,” he added, as he understood why Roxy felt the whole thing humiliating, “but the goal is the same, whether you’re hunting for terrorists in the desert or serving coffee to Prince Herbert.”

Merlin was right – as usual. Even though now she rather felt like she was making a fool of herself than serving her country. Even though she didn’t feel like that in the desert either, thinking back to those days, it seemed to be a lot more glorious mission than this one. Truly, it was more comfortable than the desert: now she had enough water, food, and a comfortable bed, but she also had an annoying Russian, who treated her like a handmaid. Which felt almost as horrible as a Jordanian sandstorm. And it didn’t make much sense to her. _Am I really comparing Lemtov to a sandstorm?_ – she asked herself. Was the current situation really that bad? Then she realised that while the sandstorm couldn’t be changed, her relationship with the Russian contestant could. The only obstacle to achieve that and set some boundaries regarding her tasks as a personal assistant/bodyguard, was that she had to talk to him and apologise for her unprofessional behaviour, but she was still too angry for that.

Roxy felt that he should apologise as well, as he was clearly disapproved of her from the moment he saw her and realised that she was not a tall, well-built man. This was fuelling her anger from the beginning. She thought he was giving her those humiliating tasks, because she wasn’t what he was expecting. Because she was a woman.

Once he finished with Roxy, Merlin had another phone call. This time it was Alexander Lemtov, wanting to fire his new bodyguard, but the Kingsman Quartermaster had to deny his request as well, explaining to the singer that it was the government who had hired Kingsman for this job and not him, so if he wanted to fire her, he had to talk to them. They were both aware that reaching the government would take more time than the entire Eurovision contest, so Merlin knew the singer wouldn’t go that far. He acknowledged that she was unprofessional, but also pointed out in his most gentlemanly way that the rubber duck incident wasn’t very professional from his side either. Even if it happened to be a regular (gold-plated) rubber duck and not a sex toy. Perhaps that was indeed a little bit too much, but it still hurt Lemtov’s pride that she was looking down on him for being just a Eurovision contestant who bathed in rose petals for his music video. He was a client as valuable as a diplomat or a politician – he was as wealthy as them, if not more. And from a certain angle, he was diplomat: a diplomat of popular culture which led him to the conclusion that Roxy should apologise first.

The car suddenly stopped when Tom noticed a red light too late and he had to step on the brake instead of slowing down gradually. However, with this step he made the bomb explode, as the sudden stop made his passengers look away from the window. And then their eyes met.

“Don’t you want to say something to me?” Lemtov asked.

Roxy pressed her lips together, while in her head she kept repeating Kingsman’s motto like a mantra: _Manners maketh man, manners maketh man, manners maketh man…_ She decided not to open her mouth until she could join the conversation without being rude, but it was still not an option.

_Manners maketh man._

“I don’t know, like ‘Mr. Lemtov, I’m sorry for being unprofessional and disrespectful,” he continued, not being bothered by the fact that no-one replied to him.

_Manners maketh man._

“And for shouting at you for no reason…”

_Manners – oh, fuck it._

“I had a reason!” Roxy cried out. “I don’t have to take your bloody duck to the bathtub! It’s not my job! And you wouldn’t have asked it of me if I was a huge, muscular man in shades and a leather jacket, would you?”

“And you wouldn’t have yelled at me if I were Russia’s ambassador, would you?” Lemtov stroke back. “Well, I’m an ambassador, too! Of pop culture!”

“And I’m as valid as a bodyguard as a male giant! But you didn’t give me a chance! From the moment you saw me you decided I wouldn’t do, because I was not a man.” Tears of anger stung Roxy’s eyes as she spoke. She had said these words many times to many people, including her family, teachers or classmates, and now she had to say them again, and honestly, she was getting tired of it.

The car stopped again, this time because they arrived at the town centre, where they agreed to meet Lemtov’s friend. Not wanting to interrupt the fight, nor to be a part of it, Tom just got out of the car and lit up a cigarette for himself. This small intermission allowed Roxy to take a breath and Lemtov to speak.

“It’s true, I was expecting a man,” he agreed, “but I wanted to give you a chance, because the bald Scotsman spoke so highly of you and I believed him, but perhaps I was wrong. And it’s not because you’re a woman; it’s because of your arrogance.”

“Arrogance?” Roxy echoed. She knew she could be intimidating, but she had never thought of herself as arrogant.

“You keep walking around as if you were superior than all of us in the whole arena,” he explained, and while he didn’t speak very loudly, his hasty gestures could tell he was upset. “I’m a Kingsman agent and I saved the world, yet I have to bring coffee to an extremely sexy idiot who is very likely to win the contest this year,” he continued, impersonating Roxy by turning his nose up and pretending to adjust a pair of glasses.

“Am I really acting like that?” Roxy asked, because she didn’t want to admit it, but she often felt that way in the last two days. Except for calling Lemtov extremely sexy.

The Russian nodded. The agent ran a hand through her hair and adjusted her glasses, without looking at her client. Disappointment spread out in her soul. She thought she was professional enough to hide her feelings towards this mission, but she failed. The so-called best Kingsman agent turned out to be the worst one for this job.

“It feels humiliating,” she admitted after a short silence. “Not the coffee part, but tearing off your waistcoat? And the rubber duck? I bet you wouldn’t ask that of a man.”

“Okay, I admit, the rubber duck was too much,” Lemtov said with a sigh. “Even if it wasn’t a sex toy.”

“I thought you were doing that to avenge that I’m not what you were expecting,” she told him. “But you weren’t what I was expecting either.”

“I bet after those terrorists, ambassadors, and mad millionaires a mere Eurovision contestant is a huge difference,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m staying at your mansion. You’re definitely not a mere Eurovision contestant,” Roxy stated.

“True. Still, you’re looking down on me from a pedestal with a damaged pride…”

“It’s damaged, because suddenly I have to work for someone who decided that I wouldn’t do my job well, _before_ we started working together!” Roxy cut in as this topic was sensitive to her after spending months, even years of her life proving she was as worthy as a man. “It hurt me, and the tasks of a personal assistant didn’t help with that either as I’m way more qualified than, I don’t know, getting you sensitive toilet paper.”

“Well, the one you got me is very good,” he remarked, though Roxy didn’t seem to hear that.

“Eurovision is not my cup of tea,” she continued, “but I don’t think you’re inferior to me because of that. It’s just… I can do a lot more than bringing you coffee and searching for your rubber duck.”

“And I don’t think you’re inferior for being a woman,” he said. “I’m sure you’re a better bodyguard than a personal assistant,” he added. “The toilet paper aside, you’re the worst one I’ve ever had.”

Although he was half-joking, Roxy didn’t get that; instead, she felt another wave of anger building up inside her. Lemtov was right: she couldn’t do her job well. It would have been necessary to keep the incognito in order to avoid unwanted attention, but she just couldn’t get over the fact that she had to do things she felt way too qualified for. Despite now she was angrier with herself than with him, she opened her mouth to strike back. Then she felt a hand on her arm, and the sudden touch surprised her so much that the wave of anger stopped halfway through and turned back.

“Hey, I wasn’t entirely serious,” Lemtov said with a small smile.

“No, you were right, I’m not good at this,” she admitted.

“Except for tearing off clothes. Your technique is very good! You should teach it to my boys tomorrow,” he told her, now sounding completely serious.

The thought of her teaching how to tear off a waistcoat to four half-naked Russian dancers sounded so absurd that Roxy couldn’t hold back her laughter. Now that they seemed to come to terms with each other, she began to calm down.

“Have you just complimented me?” she asked in disbelief. “Just when I wanted to tell you that you were my worst client, too? This is not fair,” she added with a chuckle.

“Oh, am I your worst client?” Lemtov raised a brow, and Roxy could see the smile forming in the corner of his lips. “What did I do? Besides the rubber duck thing.”

“Sounding the alarm because your coffee was too sweet? Or because there was a spider on the wall?” He had called Roxy for both things this morning.

“Spiders are scary,” Lemtov said. “And I have to pay attention to my sugar intake. I also thought you spat into my coffee.”

“No, I didn’t!” Roxy cried out, although not as angrily as she had been before. “I wouldn’t do that!” She might have been rude and unprofessional as an assistant, but she wouldn’t have gone that far.

“I bet you wanted to, and a good assistant doesn’t want to spit into her boss’ coffee.”

“And a good boss doesn’t make his assistant want to spit into his coffee,” Roxy pointed out, and Lemtov couldn’t argue with that.

“Sorry about the duck,” he said after a short silence.

“And I’m sorry about my behaviour,” Roxy apologised. “I’ll try to be a better assistant.”

Lemtov nodded his head, then leaned back in his seat, being glad that they managed to sort this thing out. He didn’t like to be against any of his staff. However, Roxy was still looking at him, waiting for something. However, before he could have said anything, the first notes of _Lion of Love_ filled the car, coming from the singer’s heavily embroidered suit jacket. A smile touched his lisps as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“You have your own song as your ringtone?” Roxy whispered.

“It’s my song, I do whatever I want with it,” he replied as he picked it up. “Hello, darling, we’re almost there,” then he hung up and turned to his bodyguard, who still seemed to be waiting for something. “All right, I won’t overuse the alarm,” he sighed. “Though I love that I just have to press my earring, and someone will be there.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Roxy said, opening the car’s door. “I guess everyone would love that.”


	4. Russian Roulette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate the arrival of Mita Xenakis, Greece's contestant, Lemtov and Roxy take her to a nightclub. However, a handsome stranger turns their night out into something more dangerous.

Mita Xenakis wasn’t expecting her old friend getting out of the car parking only five meters away from her, accompanied by a small woman with dark-blonde hair and glasses. She laughed and shook her head at the sight.

“What were you doing in that car, you naughty boy?” she teased, as Lemtov leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Not what you think I was doing,” he answered in the same teasing tone. “This is Roxy, my personal assistant,” he introduced the two women to each other, “and this is Mita Xenakis, Greece’s contestant and my good friend.”

“Hello,” Roxy held out a hand, but then she almost took a step backwards when the other woman, instead of shaking hands with her, leaned her cheek against hers as a greeting. “Nice to…” then the other cheek, “Meet you,” she finished, wanting to lean back, but Mita didn’t let her.

“We do three,” she said then brushed her left cheek against Roxy’s one more time.

“Sorry,” the Kingsman agent mumbled sheepishly. She wasn’t a big fan of unnecessary physical contact with strangers – it always made her feel awkward.

“It’s fine, no worries,” Mita said with a wide smile, gently patting Roxy’s shoulder, then she linked arms with Lemtov and they all went into the nightclub.

As the evening turned into night, Roxy learned that Lemtov and Mita were not only good friends, but they were collaborators as well: she wrote several songs for him (including _Beautiful Beast_ ) and he was the producer of her last two albums. The bodyguard liked seeing her client as relaxed as he was around this woman: he laughed, made jokes and was overall less annoying than any time before.

She began to like Mita as well: the Greek contestant was like a typical Mediterranean woman with darker skin, thick dark hair and a contagious laugh. She was as eccentric as Lemtov, although more down-to-earth than him, and perhaps a little less camp. The only thing Roxy didn’t like about her was that she couldn’t keep her hands still: every time she turned to her, she touched her arm or her hand (she did the same to Lemtov as well), and not being a fan of touching almost strangers, it made her feel a little uncomfortable.

As time went by and the two Eurovision contestants were getting progressively more drunk, they invaded the dance floor and took Roxy with them as well. Though she didn’t need much convincing, and soon she began to enjoy herself, too, at Lemtov’s genuine surprise. He wasn’t expecting his reserved and uptight bodyguard/personal assistant to start club-dancing with them, and moreover, be good at it.

However, his thoughts drifted away from Roxy not long after that, due to a handsome guy dancing near them, and once their eyes met, he came closer and closer, until the four of them were dancing together. Then the girls fell out of the circle, too, leaving just the two men there.

“I’m Rupert,” the guy introduced himself with a broad smile lighting up his stubbly face.

“Alexander.”

Then they danced on for two more songs, exchanging looks and smiles, when Rupert spoke again:

“Come on, let’s have a drink,” he said, and they headed towards the bar, followed by the suspicious gaze of a Kingsman agent.

Ever since she noticed Rupert dancing with her client, Roxy kept throwing glances at them to make sure that this dark-haired stranger wasn’t dangerous. When they went to the bar, she carefully moved closer to see them better and to get there faster in case she needed to interfere. She had warned Lemtov earlier to watch out for his drinks, but she couldn’t tell if he was sober enough to remember that. As the two men had theirs first drinks and kept on talking, yet nothing happened, she calmed down a bit, but she kept looking at them from time to time. Then there it was: when Lemtov looked away, Rupert put something in his glass. She didn’t have the time to tell Mita anything, as the other woman was completely lost in the music – she didn’t even see her walking away. Roxy quickened her steps, hoping she could get there faster than Lemtov taking his first sip of the glass. However, she had to slow down at the end to look like she just walked there casually.

“Alexander, won’t you introduce me to your new friend?” she asked, stepping between the two men, gently touching Lemtov’s arm as if they were friends.

His eyes widened with surprise as he looked at her, but then a smile broke out on his face.

“Of course,” he said, then he introduced his bodyguard to Rupert who forced a smile as Roxy waved hello to him. He clearly wasn’t pleased by the situation.

“What are you having?” she asked, trying to chat lightly, overlooking the fact that she was not welcome at the bar.

“Gin and tonic,” Lemtov replied.

“Cool,” Roxy said with a nod, then she turned towards the bartender to ask for a virgin mojito. She didn’t drink while being on duty. “Do you mind if I join you for a while? I got a little tired dancing.”

Rupert, will you excuse us for a moment?” the Russian asked, gently pulling Roxy away, who was innocently sipping on her cocktail.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, clearly annoyed by her presence. They had just come to speaking terms, and now they were about to get into another fight.

“He put something into your drink,” she told him. “I saw it.”

“I know. I’m not stupid,” he huffed. “I switched the glasses.”

Now Roxy was the surprised one. When did he do that? Probably when she looked around to check if Rupert had company. On the other hand, she was glad that he had paid attention to her and watched out. They both were smiling when turning back to Rupert.

“Sorry,” Lemtov said with his gaze shifting from the stubbly man to the glasses on the counter, and he didn’t like what he saw there. Rupert seemed to have changed back the glasses. “Where were we?”

“The toast,” he answered.

“What toast?” Roxy asked.

“A toast to the Eurovision Song Contest,” he told her, stretching his hands towards the glasses.

Roxy exchanged a quick look with Lemtov, and before he could have done anything against it, she stepped to Rupert and swept something off his shoulder.

“Sorry, there was something there,” she said, hoping that this had given enough time for Lemtov to change the glasses again.

Now the Russian was holding both glasses then handed one to Rupert: the one with the poison. He nodded at Roxy signalling that everything was all right and she nodded back at him.

“To Eurovision,” he said, raising his glass.

“To Eurovision,” the other two repeated, then they clinked their glasses together.

Now all they had to do was wait. Roxy wanted Rupert to empty his glass before confronting him and she hoped she’d have enough time before the poison started working in his body.

“Why don’t we go and sit down?” Rupert asked after a short while. “It’s getting crowded right here,” he added, taking Lemtov by the arm.

“Roxy?” the Russian turned to the young woman.

“Sure, why not,” she replied.

“Oh, I meant just the two of us,” Robert frowned.

“Please, be nice to her. She was just dumped by her boyfriend and she’s devastated,” he explained. “So, I brought her here to forget, but it doesn’t really work.”

“How nice of you!” Rupert said.

“And I promised to stick with her, yet I’m here with you, so I’m really not that nice.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand it.”

“Don’t bet on that,” Lemtov warned him. “She’s very fragile now. I wouldn’t antagonize her if I were you.”

Rupert let out a sigh, but eventually he gave in, so the three of them went to a table.

“Just don’t mention it to her,” the Russian added as they sat down.

Roxy couldn’t hear very well what Lemtov was telling Rupert, but he let her stay with them and that was what mattered. However, from the pitying looks she got from him she figured out that it couldn’t be anything good. Once they sat down, Rupert emptied his glass, then turned to the Kingsman agent.

“I’m so sorry for what happened,” he said. “You must’ve loved him a lot.”

Roxy lowered her head. ‘Him’ could be anything from a dead parrot to an ex-boyfriend. Even a dead ex-boyfriend. What the hell did Lemtov tell him?

“Yes,” she mumbled, still not looking up.

“Rupert!” Lemtov exclaimed. “What did I ask you?”

“I’m sorry,” the other man apologised. “I just wanted to show a little empathy.”

However, he instantly regretted that, when Roxy leaned her head against his shoulder, at the verge of crying.

“Thank you, Rupert, you are so kind!” she said, with her hair still covering her face.

Then she slowly lifted her head and stared into the man’s dark eyes, with no sign of tears on her cheeks. Instead she looked so cold and determined that her gaze sent chills down his spine.

“Now tell me what you put into his drink,” she spoke, slowly sliding her hand up to the nape of Rupert’s neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said with a small, nervous laugh. “I haven’t– “

“I saw you,” she cut in. “What did you put into his drink?” she repeated, leaning closer.

“Just to know what you drank,” Lemtov said, although he looked a bit strange now. His speech slowed down a bit and he seemed dizzy. “I switched the glasses.”

Now Rupert let out another laugh. This was his lucky day.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, as he watched Lemtov struggling to stay awake.

Roxy glanced at her client: he was definitely unwell. He could hardly keep his head up, blinking sleepily. It took her just a moment, but it was enough for Rupert to take his gun out. The agent gasped when he felt the barrel pressing into her side. However, he didn’t know Roxy hadn’t gone to the club empty-handed.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t poison you,” Rupert continued, in a chatty tone. “It’s just a bit of GHB.”

It was a common date rape drug, easy to overdose. It knocked out the victim for a few hours: they didn’t know about themselves and could not remember anything they did under the effect of it.

The club spun around with Lemtov. How come he had switched the glasses, yet he still drank the drugged drink? Did he switch the glasses too many times? The world went blurry in front of his eyes, and when he wanted to raise a hand, it just didn’t happen. He seemed to have lost the connection with his limbs and with his mouth too, as he wanted to speak, but his thoughts turned back halfway through. The club began to fade to black, no matter how much he struggled to keep his eyes open. The last thing he saw was Roxy leaning forward and kissing Rupert who then fell onto the table, unconscious.

* * *

Next time Alexander Lemtov opened his eyes, he was in his own bed, still feeling dizzy, having no idea how and when he had got back to his own house.

“Good morning!” Mita greeted him with a wide smile. “How are you feeling?”

“What time is it?” he asked, with a hoarse voice as his throat was dry.

“2:35,” she replied, handing him a glass of water.

“For how long I was knocked out?” he wondered after taking a large sip.

“A few hours,” Roxy answered. “Luckily, you didn’t get a huge dose.”

“I lost track of the glasses,” he admitted after a short silence. “I switched them once, but he might have not switched them back when we talked. I don’t know,” he mumbled. “What happened?”

“There was a small fight,” Roxy said. Despite Lemtov was alive and well, she still felt some remorse for not being able to watch out for him and stop him drinking the drugged cocktail. At least she could fight Rupert and his two companions.

“A small fight?” Mita echoed. “You should’ve seen her! Roxy got down three men on her own. She was amazing! Violent, but amazing.”

“It wasn’t anything unusual,” Roxy shook her head. There hadn’t been a single gunshot in the club; it was mostly hand-to-hand combat.

“I’ve never seen an actual fight before,” Mita continued, “but you were awesome! Like in those action movies, but way cooler. She seriously kicked some ass there, not letting any of those jerks touch you,” she added, turning back to Lemtov.

“Well, that’s what I’m trained for,” Roxy said, lowering her head, feeling a little embarrassed by the Greek woman’s enthusiasm. The fight was nothing special; she had taken part in encounters way more dangerous than this one.

“And the shoe, oh, God! Was there something in it?” Mita asked.

“What was with the shoe?” Lemtov wondered.

At this question, the Greek woman instinctively raised a hand to her neck.

“I might have stabbed someone with my heels,” Roxy said.

“She threw her shoe at that big blond guy and it stood into his neck,” Mita told him, then grimaced as she thought back of the picture of that well-built man with a stiletto sticking out of the spot where his neck met his shoulders. Lemtov’s eyes widened with surprise, then he grimaced too, when he imagined it. His hand instinctively rose to his neck as well.

“It’s not a regular stiletto,” Roxy explained, lifting the shoe, showing the two contestants the small, delicate blade sliding out of the heel.

“Where can I get one like this?” Mita asked, not taking her eyes off the shoe.

“It’s not for sale,” the other woman told her. In fact, hers was the first pair of bladed heels made in Kingsman’s workshops.

“Too bad,” Mita sighed. “I’d love to have some heels like this. I’d look stunning in them. What do you think?” she turned back to her friend.

However, Lemtov didn’t share her enthusiasm; he wasn’t even listening to her as his thoughts were still wandering around the glasses.

“I don’t get it,” he murmured. “I switched the glasses, then he switched them back, then I switched them again. Why did I get drugged then?”

“He might not switch it back at all,” Roxy mused. “But you thought he had.”

“Forget it,” Mita said, gently taking the Russian’s hand. “You’re alive and well, and the bad guys got caught. That’s what matters.”

Once she made sure Lemtov would be okay, Mita decided to return to the hotel, although he tried to convince her to stay the night.

“I can’t go to the press conference like this,” she gestured towards her sequined miniskirt and platform heels. “And I don’t want to get up too early to go back and change.”

Lemtov’s house was quite far from the city centre, and thus from the hotel where the contestants were accommodated (at least those who didn’t have a mansion in town), so he had to let her go. She kissed the top of his head, then Roxy walked her out to her taxi.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re not Alexander’s assistant,” Mita assured her as they walked down the stairs. After she had seen her fight, there was no point to deny it. She knew about some of the threats Lemtov had received, so she wasn’t extremely surprised when she found out the reason why Roxy was working with him. “Thank you for being here for him,” the Greek woman continued. “I know he can be annoying as hell, but actually, he has a huge…” At that moment she caught the sight of the statues in the hall and she stopped. “Oh God, those statues,” she mumbled then burst out laughing. She had seen them many times before but facing them when saying those words snapped her out of her thoughts.

“I suppose you mean heart,” Roxy said with a chuckle. She had begun to get used to the statues by now, but sometimes she still forgot that they had all the body parts and cringed at the sight, making Lemtov laugh whenever he witnessed it.

“YES. Definitely. I wanted to say heart,” Mita said, still laughing. “I always forget about them,” she added, gesturing towards the statues.

“Me, too,” Roxy agreed and they both laughed.

Not long after the Kingsman agent closed the door behind the Greek contestant, she heard Lemtov’s personal alarm beeping. By the time Roxy entered his room, he had changed into his black and golden pyjamas (which actually meant pyjama bottoms only), and was back in bed, sweeping through the schedule for the next day.

“What is it?” Roxy asked. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yes, I just wanted to ask you something,” he replied.

“Go ahead.”

“Did you really kiss Rupert, or I just dreamed that?”

Roxy let out a sigh. She should have seen it coming.

“I did,” she said with a nod. “I had to.”

She wasn’t happy about it. but it seemed less dangerous than electrocute him with her signet ring while he was pressing a loaded gun into her side.

“And did he fell on the table afterwards?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, are you such a terrible kisser?” he raised a brow, and Roxy couldn’t decide whether he was serious or joking. For his own sake she hoped it was the latter, as no-one liked to be called a terrible kisser.

“It was a strong sedative, not me,” she explained. “Special lipstick for Kingsman agents. And just for the record, I have never received any complaints,” she added with a smug smile, like the ones he had whenever he was talking about himself.

“What about Rupert?” he wondered.

“He didn’t have the time to complain,” she said. “But honestly, you didn’t lose a thing,” she added, realizing why he could be concerned about this matter. She could tell he had fancied the guy before he tried to drug him.

A smile touched the Russian’s lips.

“Good,” he said.

“Anything else?” Roxy wondered, and when he shook his head, she headed to the door. “Goodnight, Whitney.”

“Roxy!”

“Yes?” she turned back.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“That’s my job,” replied agent Lancelot with her lips curling up into a small smile.


End file.
